My Silly Regrets

As another birthday looms closer, I find myself reflecting on my past in hopes that it will give me the wisdom to better navigate another year. I’ve always believed in living without regrets, but now I think they’re inevitable. Admittedly, mine are slight- I never missed the opportunity to marry the love of my life, murdered someone in cold blood (at least I wouldn’t admit that here or that would be truly regretful) or missed filling out a lotto ticket when I knew the winning number, but I still have a short list of things I feel remorse for:

1- That I didn’t dress sluttier when I was younger. In my early twenties I had an amazing body, but I never appreciated it and instead focused on its trivial flaws, never imagining it would bloom three sizes once I got married. Also, I never showed said body off, but instead hearkened to the bogus claims that I needed to be overly modest. Now I’m not saying I wanted to look like a $2 buck hussy, but maybe a strapless dress or cleavage flirting tank wouldn’t of been uncalled for—surely no man or rabid lesbian was going to haul me into the bushes for that and I think God would have appreciated me showing off the assets he created when they were still pointing ahead.

2- That I didn’t get more lovin’ when it was so wrong and felt so good. I also bought into the admonition that one shouldn’t have sex until marriage. Now I’m not saying you should go out and hump anything with goose-bumped flesh (especially before you’re an adult), but when you’ve been with someone for four years and you’re engaged, is some sex so deviant? And why when said fiancé touches your boobs two days before the ceremony should one feel compelled to run and tell his farmer neighbor turned bishop to ask for spiritual absolution? You may think, well, then is it regretful to only have had sex with one person? And I’d say no- I’m perfectly content to have sexually embarrassed myself in front of only one person.


3- That I married so young. Clearly regret number #2 lead to regret #3. I in no way feel remorse for who I married, just that due to the constraint of our culture we felt so obligated to marry before we’d even finished college. Sometimes I wonder about the opportunities I missed because decisions had to be made as a couple, but the flip side is that we enjoyed seven childless years where we traveled. I also would’ve enjoyed more of those single years when I was responsible for no one but myself, didn’t have to listen to snoring, and cherished that I alone could be the best company.

So those are the petty major three and what should I take from them as I enter into my 32nd year? I think Katherine Hepburn said it best, “If you obey the rules, you miss all the fun,” so this year I’m taking her advice and let’s see if this makes it a year without adding silly regrets.

When Should Childhood Nudity Stop?

As mentioned in an earlier post, I attended a family reunion last week and got to be in the presence of the one man in American who knows everything. My brother-in-law, who is a seminary principal, is certain he has everything figured out and he’s more than happy to dispense his wisdom to whoever is within range of his voice. Never mind that his education is from the University of Phoenix and the farthest he’s ever traveled is to West Coast on a mission. When one of my baby’s was undergoing a life threatening surgery, he had the audacity to e-mail that we should do his baby blessing immediately so he wouldn’t die, not something any mother wants to hear at that stressful moment. I don’t think anyone has ever said something to make me angrier, but at my celestial sex partner’s request I kept a lid on my fury.

So, when we saw him at the family reunion it was a given that he’d say something infuriating or just plain stupid. My baby (who remains unblessed, but survived) has been suffering from heat rash and being outside during the family reunion wasn’t helping so I removed all of his clothes except for his diaper while we say in the shade.“Whoa, get some clothes on that baby!” He said and my husband and I laughed thinking he was joking. Problem was, he wasn’t. He went on, “The other day my neighbor’s son, Ezra, was out playing with a hose- they’re Bible freaks, anyway the kid was nude. I mean the kid is two (he holds his fingers up), TWO,” he spits. “So I pulled up and told his dad to get some clothes on that kid. You just can’t let your kids run around naked, there’s gotta be a cut off,” he said.

My CSP and I spoke that unspoken marital language with our eyes and we both agreed he was an idiot. Our silence made him uncomfortable, which I enjoyed. Earlier that week I’d let my four-year-old swim in the backyard kiddie pool naked because the baby was already in it, nude I might add, and I couldn’t leave him alone to go upstairs and get my older child's swimsuit, plus I didn't really care. I’d won't let him go in the front yard like that, but when he was two I saw no problem with it if the occasion arose.

What do you think, are nude kids something to be chastised over? Where do you think the age “cut off” is for public childhood nudity?